


To Get You Back

by poppyfields13



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coney Island, First Kiss, M/M, Period Typical Homophobia, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sarah Rogers is a flawed character, Stucky Big Bang 2016, Teen Sex, bed sharing, friends-to-lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyfields13/pseuds/poppyfields13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>2017, 1944, 1939, 1936, 1935, 1932, 1927.</i>
</p><p>If Steve’s ma had never caught them together, things might have been different, but that moment changed everything. They struggle to live their lives knowing they can’t be together, when it’s the only thing they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2017

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the [The Stucky Library](http://thestuckylibrary.tumblr.com/) 2016 Big Bang.
> 
> I'd like to thank Tinzelda for the beta, the advice (handholding), and for encouraging me to sign up for the Big Bang in the first place. And [Natterbugg](http://natterbugg.tumblr.com/) for doing the art for this fic, being a sweetheart, and being very easy to work with. 
> 
> I'm [@lovesdresses](http://lovesdresses.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.

**2017**

Steve stared out the window. Sometimes Wakanda almost felt like home to him. Other times, it felt just as unfamiliar as Times Square in the 21st Century.

They’d been in the apartment T’Challa had set them up with for two weeks. Before then, Steve had spent his time back and forth between helping Sam, Wanda, Clint, and Scott get set up with new identities and new places to live and coming back to make sure Bucky was still safe. 

Bucky was out of cryofreeze now. T’Challa was certain the trigger words had been de-programmed, but Bucky was still having a lot of therapy sessions. 

T’Challa asked Steve if he wanted to have some therapy too, or even talk to him as a friend, but Steve couldn’t. He knew it was probably something he needed, he'd known that for a while, but he felt clammy at the thought of it. His main priority at the moment was Bucky, and he couldn't talk about Bucky to a stranger — his feelings about Bucky had been secret for so long. He wondered if Bucky talked to his therapist about Steve… he wondered if Bucky even remembered anything beyond the surface of their friendship.

He turned away from the window and stared into his bowl of oatmeal. He had been trying not to stare at Bucky, but he was conscious of the arm lying on the table alongside his.

“T’Challa said he could make me a new arm, out of vibranium, like your shield,” Bucky said. He didn’t open up very much with Steve, especially not offering up information like this. He must have noticed Steve staring. 

“That’s great, Buck.” Steve smiled. Bucky could probably tell the smile was fake, but it was the only thing he could think of to do to reassure him. He couldn't help himself.

“I said no.”

“Oh.” 

Bucky laughed then and grabbed Steve’s shoulder, making Steve's eyes widen in surprise. “Don’t worry, I was polite about it. But…” His face turned serious. “I’m sick of fighting, Steve. And I’m sick of running.”

Steve was sick of it too. He was _tired_. He could admit to himself that there was a time when he thrived off of fighting. It gave him purpose. Now that he had Bucky back, it didn't seem all that important. But that was something he didn't know how to say. “I understand Buck,” he said eventually. “You won’t have to fight again.”

Bucky looked like he didn’t quite believe Steve, but he nodded. “I feel safe here. I don’t want to leave. You can, if you want. Please, don’t feel like you have to stay with me. I can get by on my own.”

“I’m pretty sure I said the exact same thing to you when my ma died,” Steve said. “And you didn't pay any attention. I’m not going anywhere, Buck. You’re stuck with me.”

Bucky smiled. And it wasn't hollow, there was a spark in his eye. “Punk.”

“Jerk.”

*

Steve had to do their grocery shopping online — a luxury he never could have imagined growing up. They couldn’t exactly go shopping any time they felt like it. Not only were they wanted men, but they weren’t likely to go unnoticed in Wakanda. Bucky wouldn’t venture out of their apartment building anyway, other than to get in the car that took him to his therapy sessions.

Bucky was helping him unpack the groceries, and Steve handed him a candy bar. It was a Baby Ruth. They'd had those back when they were kids, though Steve didn’t think they tasted the same. Bucky stared at it. 

“Remember the chocolate that came in our rations during the war?” he asked. Steve nodded. “That was the last time I had chocolate until…” He slowly took the candy bar from Steve's hand. “It was in Bucharest. I’d just been eating things to fill me up. I didn’t really think about how they tasted. But when I saw the candy bar… I wanted it.”

Steve pictured Bucky standing in a grocery store. Lost. Then agonising over wanting something, just for the sake of wanting it. Because that’s what people do. They want things. “You always had a sweet tooth,” he said.

Bucky shook his head. “The chocolate was too sweet. I wasn’t used to it. But I ate it anyway. And I wanted more.”

Just thinking about Bucky being able to find a small amount of happiness after escaping Hydra made the tension in Steve’s body ease a little. He made a mental note to buy Bucky as much chocolate as he could eat. 

He thought about Bucky’s life after the helicarrier, how he’d ended up living reclusively in Romania. The question popped into his head. The one he’d asked himself a million times before, and wanted to ask Bucky every second of every day. But he didn’t, because the last time he asked, he didn’t like the answer. 

Maybe it was because Bucky had mentioned _wanting_ something, even if it was just a stupid candy bar, but for whatever reason, Steve decided it was time to try again. 

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you pull me from the Potomac?” 

Bucky’s whole body tensed. It was a moment before he spoke. “I don’t know, Steve.”

Steve looked away, only for a second, then he mustered that reassuring smile. “That’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”

*

For all that Bucky was an expert with machine guns, he still sometimes had problems with everyday modern appliances, including the television. One evening, Steve had been reading in his room when he was frightened half to death by the sound of the TV suddenly blaring music. He walked into the living room to find Bucky on the couch glaring at the remote and forcefully pressing the buttons with his thumb. He was clearly frustrated. He’d managed to turn the volume down but was obviously trying to change to channel, to no avail.

Steve looked at the screen. Two men were running around singing about not paying their rent.

“What _is_ this?” Bucky complained. “I don't want to watch this.”

Steve took the remote and pressed the button that would show him what the program was. “It's a movie. Let's watch it.”

He sat down beside Bucky on the couch. He always wanted to stay close when Bucky got in a bad mood. A part of him was afraid Bucky would run away.

“It looks dumb,” Bucky said, but settled back into the couch cushions.

Steve liked it, though. It reminded him of the movies he used go and see with Bucky, where the actors would break out in song for no apparent reason. The movie, _RENT_ , turned out to be set in New York, at the height of the AIDS epidemic. 

Bucky complained about how stupid it was a few more times, but as several gay characters were introduced, he got quieter and quieter. Steve wasn’t exactly comfortable watching it either, with Bucky right next to him, but he thought if he decided to turn it off now it would look suspicious. Besides, he got wrapped up in the story. 

When it was over, Bucky went to his bedroom without saying a word. 

Steve sat on the couch for a long time, thinking. He vividly remembered the first time he saw a gay couple after he came out of the ice. 

He’d already been warned by SHIELD that things were not the way they used to be, but it hadn’t prepared him for seeing two men sitting together on the subway, holding hands. He had been afraid he made them uncomfortable by how much he was staring, but he was glad for them. Glad that they could be out in public. Glad it wasn’t a crime anymore.

But it also made him miserable that he and Bucky had never had that. If things had been different back then, they would have been together. Their lives would have been so, so different. They might have even gotten married. 

And Steve’s ma would have been supportive, he knew she would have been. But it was a different time. It had been dangerous then. Maybe his ma hadn’t done the right thing, but she’d done what she thought was best for him. For both of them.

It had been a long time, but lately he’d been thinking a lot about the last time he spoke to his ma, before she died. It was haunting him. 

_“Steve... I’m so sorry.”_

_“Ma, why are you sorry? It’s not your fault you’re sick.”_

_“No… I’m sorry about what happened with Bucky. You haven’t been yourself since then. You always look so sad. I’m sorry.”_

_“I forgive you, Ma. I forgive you.”_

*

He was awoken by shouting, and he knew Bucky was having a nightmare. He waited tensely until it had quieted down. He was just about to drift off again when he heard footsteps and his bedroom door creak open.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” He peered over his shoulder to see Bucky's silhouette in the doorway.

“Can I sleep in here?” Bucky whispered.

“Sure.” 

Bucky must have had a particularly bad dream. It wasn’t unusual for him to cry out in the night, but it was the first time he had sought Steve's comfort after a nightmare. Steve moved forward on the bed so Bucky could climb in behind him. 

He listened as Bucky curled up, his knees lightly knocking into the back of Steve's thighs. Steve was glad he hadn't turned around because just feeling the heat radiating from Bucky’s body was enough to make him hard. 

He’d been jerking off a hell of a lot lately. In fact, he’d never jerked off so much in his life. Before the serum, his libido hadn’t been the way it was now. And when he _had_ gotten himself off, he’d always felt depressed afterwards. It brought up too many feelings of rejection, knowing he and Bucky couldn’t be together. And during the war he’d had too many other things to think about. Now, all he thought about was Bucky. 

He was seriously considering sneaking off to the bathroom when he felt Bucky’s hand on his back. His body lit up even more. It was almost unbearable. When Bucky spoke, Steve could barely make out the words, his pulse was pounding so loudly in his ears. 

“I don’t know how you feel about me any more,” Bucky whispered. “But I never stopped loving you, Steve. That’s why I pulled you from the river. You must know that.”

Steve couldn’t breathe. Could Bucky really have said that? Slowly he turned to face him. He was looking down, not at Steve. He looked beautiful in the moonlight. He tentatively took Steve's hand in his. Steve didn't know what to say, and if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to speak. 

“When your ma caught us... she scared me to death. Telling us it was illegal. I couldn’t risk putting you in danger if anyone ever found out. I would have never forgiven myself if something happened to you, and I could have prevented it.”

“I didn’t prevent you from being captured,” Steve said quietly.

Bucky shook his head. “That’s different.”

“I’ll never forgive myself.”

Bucky looked Steve in the eye then. “Steve, I forgive you. And… I forgive myself too. For everything I’ve done. And if I can do that. So can you.”

A sob escaped Steve's lips. He nodded and reached out to Bucky, gripping him tight. He was only inches away from Bucky's lips, but it was Bucky who closed the gap. He kissed Steve sweetly, like he always had. Only deepening the kiss when Steve greedily kissed him with more urgency. Just like before. He urged Bucky closer, wrapping his arms around him. Pressing his hardness into Bucky. 

He couldn't believe he was touching Bucky like this again. Being close to him. Holding him in his arms. “I missed you so much,” he gasped, between kisses. 

Bucky pulled away, resting his hand on Steve's chest. “I just want to stay with you. Here. Forever. It’s all I want. Please, Steve.”

“Yes. Bucky, yes. Just you and me.” He hungrily claimed Bucky's lips again. He moaned when Bucky pushed Steve over onto his back and lay on top of him, pressing his hips down. He pulled away to kiss Steve's neck. Steve clung to him, scraping his nails down Bucky's back to pull at the hem of his t-shirt. 

Bucky stopped and looked down at him. “But fighting… that’s your life. And I can’t do that anymore, Steve. I can’t.”

Steve stopped too. He gazed up at Bucky. Bucky, whom he loved more than he had words for. He was all Steve had ever wanted. He would always choose Bucky. He would give up his shield for him every time. “Bucky. You’re my life."

Bucky pressed his forehead to Steve's, his breath heavy on Steve's face. “I want to be inside you,” he whispered. “I've wanted it for so long.”

“Yes. Yes.”

When Bucky finally entered his body, Steve cried out in pleasure. But it was more than that. It was pleasure, and desperation, and love, and _relief_. Tears fell from Steve's eyes as their bodies rocked together.


	2. 1944

**1944**

Their latest mission was to track down a Hydra base on the coast of Belgium, somewhere near Bruges. They hadn’t had any luck and were camping out in the forest. They had a few lightweight two-man tents, and naturally, Steve and Bucky were sharing.

The tent really wasn’t doing much to keep out the cold, and Bucky was freezing his ass off. Ironically, Steve seemed to be fine. Bucky wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed his eyes shut. But despite the dark, he could feel Steve’s eyes on him.

“What.”

“Nothing.” He heard rustling as Steve laid down beside him.

“Steve. We’ll find it, don’t worry.”

“I know.” He sounded annoyed. He’d been in a bad mood all day. Apparently, the opportunity for a few hours sleep hadn’t altered that.

“Okay, then. Why are you pissed?”

Steve huffed. “Because you don’t want to _talk_ about anything. I still know hardly anything about what happened to you in Azzano.”

“I’m talking now, aren’t I?”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“Then I’m going to remain pissed off.”

Bucky sighed. “We can talk about something else. Anything. Just not that.”

“I don’t think you want to talk about the other thing I want to talk about, either,” Steve said. “You never do.” 

Bucky realised, too late, that Steve was right. It would inevitably come back to that one thing. It always did. “How’s Peggy?” he asked. It was meant to distract Steve, he didn’t mean for it to sound so bitter when he said her name. 

“You’re jealous,” Steve said. He didn’t even sound angry. He sounded relieved. 

And Bucky hated that. He said nothing. 

“Say it,” Steve said. “Admit you’re jealous.”

Still, Bucky said nothing, and he could feel Steve start to lose his temper. They weren't touching, and he could barely make out Steve’s bulk in the dark. But he knew him. He knew him inside out. And a part of him wanted Steve to get mad. Then he could get mad back. Then _maybe_ it would all be easier. 

“Did you really expect me to wait for you?” Steve snapped. There it was. 

But what really struck Bucky was that it was the truth. He _had_ expected that. All those years and Steve hadn't been with anyone else. Bucky had taken it for granted. He had been secretly glad whenever a girl he set Steve up with rejected him. Maybe he even chose them because he knew they would? It was shitty of him, and he was paying the price now. 

But Steve hadn't exactly tried either. Bucky wasn't stupid. He knew Steve always hoped they would get back together. And he’d grown used to it. Now, he had no right to begrudge Steve for moving on. 

“I'm sorry Bucky. I didn't mean that. I love you. I always have.” He reached his hand out and touched Bucky’s face. 

“Don’t be sorry. I deserved that. I deserve a lot worse. But you don’t. You deserve to be happy with her, Steve. And she… she deserves you, too.”

“Don't say that,” Steve growled. “Bucky, maybe in another life I could love Peggy, but I can’t feel that way about her when I know what it’s like to be with you. Don't you get that?”

He did. He just wished it wasn’t true. He had often wondered if he had never started anything with Steve in the first place, maybe Steve would have been normal. He wouldn’t have even thought about being with men, but Bucky had corrupted him. 

Suddenly, Steve’s lips were on his. Bucky didn’t kiss back, but he didn’t push Steve away immediately either. 

“Please, Bucky,” Steve whispered desperately.

“We can't. What if someone found out.” _What if I kiss you back and I can’t stop?_ he thought. 

“Just hold me then. Just for a while.”

He should've said no. Morita would come and get him soon, to take over sentry duty. But he couldn't help himself. What if this was his last chance to feel Steve in his arms? He wasn’t delusional about his own mortality. He probably wasn’t going to make it out of this war. “Okay.”

He even indulged in a smile as Steve squashed his massive body up against his chest. He still thought of himself as that little guy. Bucky still thought of him that way too. 

He was instantly warm, and all tension left his body. Why did it always feel so right, to be close to Steve? He breathed in the scent of Steve's hair. It was intoxicating. If he didn't calm himself down he would get a hard-on, and he knew if he did and Steve made a move, it would make it that much more difficult to resist him.

God, he loved Steve so much. But he wasn't any good for him now. Maybe they could have been together. In their apartment. Just the two of them. But he’d missed his chance. He’d resisted so much that he’d just damaged what they had. He’d wasted so much energy preventing himself from being happy. 

He didn't want to fall asleep. He wanted to stay awake as long as he could, so he could savour the feeling of Steve in his arms. Absorb it. He needed it to keep him going. But despite having trouble sleeping ever since being rescued from the table, he felt his eyes drooping. He shook himself awake several times, but it was almost painful to keep his eyes open.

He gave Steve one last squeeze, with the tiny bit of consciousness he could muster. Then he was asleep.


	3. 1939

**1939**

It was a Saturday afternoon and, for once, neither Steve nor Bucky was working. Bucky hadn’t mentioned any plans he had for that night either, and Steve was glad. He hoped they could just spend the rest of the evening together at home.

He always liked those nights best. He longed for them. Just the two of them, sitting in comfortable silence. He could pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. He could almost pretend they were an old married couple. Except, when he looked at Bucky and had the urge to kiss him, he knew he couldn’t. 

Steve had thought that maybe after his ma died and they had moved in together, things would get better. They would pick up where they left off after that terrible day, but every time he’d tried to make a move, Bucky rebuffed him. He wasn’t cruel about it, they were both still best pals, that never changed, but it seemed like Bucky didn’t want anything more. 

It was all Steve could think about. He didn’t think he could ever love anyone else.

He stared out the window at the grey sky. He had to start bracing himself for the winter. It wouldn’t be long. He always got sick more frequently in the winter. Not only that, but they had to work harder in the winter, to try and heat their place, and to pay for Steve's medicines. Steve had long ago stopped fighting Bucky about sharing that expense. 

Bucky shut his book and jumped up from the couch. “Hey! I have an idea. Let’s go to Coney Island!”

Steve looked up doubtfully at Bucky. But when he saw that enthusiastic grin, he immediately knew where he would be spending the afternoon. “Do I even have a choice?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Fine. But if you think I’m ever going on the Cyclone again, you’re out of your mind.”

*

As soon as they stepped off the bus, Bucky was dragging him left and right. They spent the afternoon playing skeeball and stuffing their faces with hotdogs and popcorn. Bucky went on the Cyclone while Steve watched from the side.

Bucky won a stuffed bear which he ‘made Steve carry’ — it was really his way of giving it to Steve. Like always, Steve got stupidly wrapped up in it, convincing himself that maybe all of Bucky’s affection meant he might change his mind about their relationship. 

Around five o’clock, Bucky suggested they walk down to the beach. 

Steve looked dubiously at the shoreline. The tide was a long way out. “It's too cold, Buck, and we don't have our swim trunks anyway.” 

“We’re not gonna swim, you dummy. And you can wear my jacket.”

Steve eyed the jacket that was already off of Bucky’s shoulders. His first instinct was to refuse. But he really wanted to wear it. He wanted to feel its warmth from Bucky’s body. Maybe it would feel, just for a second, like Bucky was holding him. He felt pathetic for thinking it, but he accepted the jacket. 

On the way there, they passed a couple of girls, and Bucky smiled at them. They stopped him under some pretense of not knowing how to get to the Ferris wheel. Bucky directed them, but they asked him if he would show them. Bucky looked back at Steve, who more than likely already had a disappointed look on his face, and to Steve's surprise, he turned them down. 

They walked in silence to the water. The waves crashed fiercely against the sand, and the wind howled across the ocean. Steve shivered.

Bucky suddenly dropped to the sand and began taking his shoes and socks off.

Steve gaped at him. “Are you crazy?”

“It's not that cold Stevie. Come on.”

“No, thanks.” He was already feeling too cold. The wind felt icy on his cheeks. 

Bucky got up and stood beside Steve. No one else was around. He put his arm over Steve’s shoulders.

Steve instantly leaned into him, and his heartbeat quickened. “This is almost like how things were before,” he said. 

Just like that, the spell was broken. Bucky snatched his hand away. “Things can't be like the way they were before, Steve.”

“Why?” Steve was pretty sure he’d never used another word as much as that one. 

“You know why. It’s dangerous. It could get you… us killed. If anything ever happened to you…” He looked away. 

“Who would ever know, Buck? We can be careful. Just you and me in our apartment. Nobody ever has to know.”

Bucky’s lip trembled, and Steve knew that meant he was trying not to cry. “Please… don’t tempt me, Steve. I promised your ma.”

“But she told me she was wrong! Before she died.” He wasn’t sure why he’d never told Bucky that. Maybe a part of him had just wanted Bucky to choose to be with him anyway.

Bucky let out such a pained noise it frightened Steve. “Don’t say that!”

“She did. I'm not lying!” Steve yelled.

“I didn’t say you were lying. God, Steve! Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

That hurt. Steve knew he was a burden, but Bucky had never treated him like he was. “Well, if that’s the way you feel, I can get by on my own.”

Bucky shoved his hands through his hair and clenched his jaw. He never usually got this frustrated with Steve. “That’s not what I meant, Steve. I meant the way you have to argue about everything. You know that’s what I meant. You’re doing it right now!”

Steve had to swallow down the ‘Am not’ that attempted to escape his lips. Bucky was the one person Steve loved most in the world, but he was also the person who made Steve the angriest. And he could be petty and mean when he was angry. He could hurt Bucky. After all, Bucky was hurting him. 

“Why don’t you go and find those girls? They’ll stare adoringly at you. That’s the only reason you chose me as a friend in the first place isn’t it? Because you knew I would follow you around like a lovesick puppy. But then you got bored with me.”

Bucky just stared at him, and he felt ashamed. “I’m just trying to do the right thing by you,” Bucky said. “Why can’t you understand that?”

Steve squinted. “I’ll never understand.”

Bucky let out a frustrated yell and threw his arms up into the air. Then he turned on his heel and stormed off halfway down the beach. Steve refused to run after him. The thing was, Steve did understand. He just hated it. He sat down in the sand and fumed. 

By the time Bucky came back, Steve’s teeth were chattering. Despite having Bucky’s jacket on over his own, he was freezing. 

Bucky calmly knelt down beside Steve, his voice had turned dulcet once more. “I’m sorry.”

“M...me too,” Steve said, though he could barely get the words out.

Bucky rubbed his back. “We need to get you home.” 

Bucky sat with his side pressed up against Steve on the bus ride home. Steve didn’t even have the energy to resent him for not putting his arm around him. Just knowing he was there, trying to keep Steve warm, was enough. 

Once they were back in their apartment, he made Steve put on pajamas, socks and a sweater. “You’re still freezing,” he said, as he nudged Steve into bed. He then grabbed the blanket from his own bed, threw it over Steve, and climbed in behind him. He pulled the blankets up to their chins. He put his arm around Steve’s middle and pulled him close to his chest. 

“I’m sorry I made you go out. I knew you wanted to stay at home,” he mumbled into Steve’s ear. His warm breath felt good against Steve’s skin.

“It’s okay, Bucky. I’ll be warm soon.”

“And I’m sorry we fought. But please don’t make me talk about that again.”

He sounded so helpless. It was hard to be angry at him. It was always hard to stay angry at Bucky. Steve found himself agreeing, even though it wasn’t what he wanted.

But maybe he just wasn’t meant to get what he wanted.


	4. 1936

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This part has slightly dubious consent, I have provided details of this at the bottom of the page notes for those concerned.

**1936**

It was early when Bucky headed over to Steve’s place for the last time. The morning air was crisp. Bucky cupped his hands and breathed into them. He was glad Steve wouldn’t be on his own in that drafty apartment when winter rolled around.

Steve had the door to the apartment open when Bucky arrived and was carefully checking the cupboards for any stray items. There were only a couple of suitcases and a few boxes packed up, sitting just inside the door. The furniture belonged to the apartment, and Steve had given most of his ma’s things away. 

“Knock knock.”

Steve turned and smiled at him. It still gave Bucky butterflies, which he had to squash down every time. But still, there was something pleasant about it. He wondered if he was clinging to the feeling on purpose, instead of just letting go. 

“Are you sure your parents are okay with this?” Steve asked, as he walked towards the door. 

“Steve, come on. Of course they are. They love you.” _I love you._

Steve still looked doubtful. “We’ll get our own place eventually?” he asked. 

“Just the two of us,” Bucky said, “I just need to save up a bit more. It won’t be long.”

Steve shook is head. “You don't need to do this, Buck.”

“We’ve been through this,” Bucky said in a sing-song voice. “If you say one more word about it I’m going to start singing ‘Top Hat, White Tie and Tails’. I know how much you love it.”

“Don’t you dare!” Steve said, but he was laughing. 

He waited as Steve dropped his key off to the landlord, then they began the trek back to Bucky’s parents’ apartment. Bucky had precariously placed the two largest boxes one on top of the other, leaving Steve with the smallest box and the smallest suitcase.

“I can carry one of those,” Steve said.

“Nuh uh.” He grinned at Steve.

Steve rolled his eyes but decided not to argue back for once in his life. And when they reached Bucky’s place, it was obvious he was relieved to put down the small box and suitcase. 

Bucky’s bedroom was a shoebox, but he’d always been grateful he was the only boy, so he didn’t have to share. He didn't mind sharing with Steve though. He’d emptied the two top drawers of his dresser for Steve to put some of his things in. The clothes that didn’t fit stayed in the suitcases, and they put them under his bed.

After that, Steve had to leave for a shift he had at the grocery store. Bucky had a feeling Steve was probably going to work as much as he could in order to contribute to Bucky’s parents and to save up for them to move out. He didn’t blame him, he was doing the same thing. But he worried about Steve tiring himself out. 

He wasn’t going to say anything though. Especially after Steve’s mother had just died. The poor guy probably wanted to keep as busy as possible. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said, as he walked with Steve down the hall toward the front door. He suddenly felt awkward. He wanted to lean over and kiss Steve on the cheek, the way his mother did to his father every morning when he left for work.

“See you,” Steve said. He hesitated. Maybe he was feeling the same way Bucky was. Then he quickly turned and walked out the door. 

Bucky stood there, staring at the door for a full minute. He was the only one home. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t have work that day. He went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Not because he particularly wanted one, but for something to do. He thought about going to the movies but decided he’d rather save his money. Or go with Steve.

He thought about going to visit Steve at the grocery store but rejected that idea pretty quickly. Steve would be mad if he distracted him. He had a few pals from the factory, but he usually only socialised with them in the evenings, when they grabbed a beer after work. 

He was lonely. He was a friendly guy, and he got along great with everyone. But the only friendship he had that meant anything to him was the one he had with Steve. Besides his family, he felt like Steve was the only person who really cared about him. 

He was pretty sure the girls he dated didn’t really care, but he chose them for that reason. He never wanted anything serious. He had fun with them. At least, he tried to. But it was still Steve he couldn't help but think about every time he touched himself under his blankets, when everyone else was asleep. 

He wished it didn’t have to be this way. But he couldn’t drag Steve down with his inverted nature. Steve was too good. Probably, the best thing to do would be to cut Steve out of his life altogether, for both their sakes, but he knew deep down in his soul he could never do that. 

What if Steve found other guys to be with? What if he got caught up in the wrong crowd? It was better to at least be a part of Steve’s life, to know what he was up to, so he could protect him. But maybe he was just making excuses for himself. Maybe he was trying to convince himself it was okay to be with Steve. Better him than someone else. But it wasn’t okay. He’d made a promise.

He felt like he was in limbo. They both were. But he didn’t know if he even wanted to change it.

He took his coffee back to his bedroom and sat on his bed with his back against the wall. He glanced at the boxes Steve had stacked in the corner. His hand twitched, and he looked away. He wasn’t going to look at Steve’s personal things. He wasn’t. 

He stood up, walked to the boxes and hovered around them. He put his cup down on the floor, then picked up a sketchpad that was poking out of the small box at the top of the pile. Steve wasn’t exactly shy about his art, but Bucky knew he still shouldn’t be looking without his permission. He opened it anyway and started thumbing through. 

He stopped when a page fell open, and his face appeared. He remembered when Steve had drawn it, a few years earlier, in that very room. It had been a rare day when they were all alone. Bucky’s ma had taken his sisters on a day trip out of the city to visit a relative. Bucky had been lying on his bed, his hands behind his head with his legs in Steve’s lap, and Steve’s sketchpad resting on them. 

That day had been the first time they had touched each other. Lying pressed together on Bucky’s bed, a light breeze brushing the curtains over their bare legs. He remembered it so clearly. 

He hastily dropped the sketchpad back into the box. He stepped back and his foot knocked into the coffee mug. 

“God dammit!” He turned to assess the mess. It was everywhere. He rushed into the bathroom and grabbed a towel to soak it up before it could seep into the corners of the room. It served him right for being a snoop. 

He cleaned it up as best he could. His ma wasn’t going to be happy with him for staining one of the towels. He decided it was probably best to just get rid of it and feign ignorance when she discovered it was missing.

He grabbed his keys on the way to the trash cans in the alley, he needed to get out of the apartment.

*

Bucky arrived home just in time for dinner, and Steve arrived not long after that. Steve sat in the place he always sat. It was his place now. He talked happily with Bucky’s ma as he passed around the peas and mashed potatoes. He looked beautiful.

“What?” he asked.

“Huh?” Bucky said.

“You were staring at me.”

“Oh, was I?” Bucky looked around the table, all eyes had turned to him. “I was just thinking, I guess.”

“Thinking about what?” Becca asked.

“He was probably worrying about me, as usual,” Steve said. But he didn’t sound angry.

“Sorry,” Bucky said. It was better for them to assume that. He focused his attention on his meal.

After dinner, the family gathered in the living room to listen to the wireless. Steve had his sketchpad, a different one, but Bucky didn’t even try to look at what he was drawing. He slid to the floor and played card games with his sisters for the next couple of hours. 

When his pa got up and turned off the radio, that meant it was time for bed, for everyone. At nineteen years old Bucky resented this, but he’d given up arguing about it a long time ago. Besides, Steve was already collecting the couch cushions. 

His ma handed him some sheets and blankets for Steve. “Make sure he’s comfortable,” she whispered, and kissed him on the cheek. 

“I will, Ma.”

She then kissed Steve on the cheek, which he looked embarrassed about, but also pleased.

They took the sheets, blankets, and cushions to Bucky’s room. Steve leaned down to arrange the cushions on the floor, and when he stood up, he had a funny look on his face. “Why does it smell like coffee in here?” he asked. 

Bucky felt his cheeks threatening to turn pink. “I spilled it in here this morning,” he said guiltily. He busied himself with the sheet arrangement. 

Steve laughed. “You’re a clutz.”

“Excuse me, but I’m not the one who trips over my own feet at least once a week.”

“You got me there, Buck,” Steve said as he picked up his toothbrush. Bucky quickly got into his pajamas while he was gone, and when he came back from his turn in the bathroom, was relieved to see Steve had done the same.

He shut the door and turned out the light. He padded across the room barefoot, careful not to step on Steve, and climbed into bed. He pulled the covers up to his chin. “It’s cold,” he said. “Are you all right down there?”

“I’m okay,” Steve said. He could hear Steve moving under the old sheets and blankets.

“G’night then.”

“Night, Buck.”

Bucky didn’t even feel close to sleep but he closed his eyes anyway, willing his body to relax. It seemed like only a few moments had passed when he felt the edge of his bed dip. His eyes sprang open, and before he knew it, Steve had slipped in beside him. 

“What’re you doing?”

“It’s too cold down there,” Steve whispered. He pushed his back against Bucky’s chest. 

“We can swap. I’ll sleep on the floor. Sorry, I should have suggested it.”

“No. Can I just sleep with you?”

“Steve… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Steve reached his hand behind him, searching. When he found Bucky’s arm he pulled it in front of him, holding it to his chest. Bucky’s whole arm felt like it was on fire. 

Against his will, his body started reacting, he tried to pull away, but Steve held him close. Bucky knew Steve could feel his growing erection. 

“Steve, we can’t.” Steve pushed Bucky’s hand down to his own crotch. He was hard too. Bucky snatched his hand away and rolled onto his back. “No, Steve.”

He heard Steve sigh, resigned. Bucky felt horrible. Steve was probably just looking for some comfort. He was probably even more lonely than Bucky was. He felt awful for denying him that. He was always making the wrong choices when it came to Steve. All he wanted was to do the right thing, and it never worked.

“Fine,” Steve said. But he didn’t move from Bucky’s bed. 

Bucky rolled over to face the window. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night,” Steve mumbled.

*

He's at work, at the factory. Except it isn't really the factory. And Steve's there. There's a furnace. God, it's so hot. They're on the ground. On the couch cushions. There are couch cushions everywhere. Bucky's on top of Steve, looking down at him. Then he's buried deep inside him. Pistoning his hips again and again. It feels so good... but something's not quite right. He’s not close enough. He gropes at Steve's body, he needs him. He can't get close enough. He needs Steve so much. God. Steve.

“Steve... Steve... Steve.” He moaned as he pulled Steve's body closer, thrusting his hips. He heard Steve moan too, and his eyes sprang open. He wasn't at work. Or on couch cushions. He was in his bed, with Steve right there. He immediately pushed away, horrified. 

“Don’t stop,” Steve whined. 

Bucky was shaking. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.” 

“Please, Bucky.” Steve pushed his hips back, trying to press their bodies together once again.

“I was dreaming. It was just a dream.” A wave of despair washed over him. “Steve, we can’t.”

“Can't we just... just this once?” Steve pulled Bucky's hand tight across his chest again. He wasn't going to let go easily. 

Bucky felt his resolve fading. He wanted this so much. “Okay. Just this once.” He knew he should say no. He hated himself for having no control. But in that moment, with Steve in his arms, wanting him, he found it hard to remember all the reasons why it was a bad idea. 

He felt Steve nodding his head. He snaked his hand down Steve's body and pressed it to his clothed erection. Steve's hand rested on top of his, gently pushing. He hooked his chin over Steve's shoulder, and in the dim light of the morning seeping through the thin curtains, he watched as Steve slipped his hand down his pajama pants, his arm moving up and down. Bucky hesitated a moment before his hand followed Steve’s. Steve moaned and immediately took his hand away, allowing Bucky sole access.

“Please,” he moaned.

“Shhhh.”

Bucky pulled his hand away briefly to fumble with the tie on his pajama pants. He pulled them down just enough to free his dick. He pulled at Steve’s pajamas too, exposing his ass. Then he thrust desperately at Steve, pushing along the cleft of his backside.

He pushed his hand back into Steve's pants and began jerking him, in time with his thrusts. He hooked his leg around Steve's in an effort to give himself more leverage. Steve rocked his hips back, and after only a few moments, Bucky started to lose his rhythm, jerking Steve at random intervals, his hips thrusting erratically. When he felt Steve pulsating in his hand, he let go too. He spurted again and again between their bodies, all over Steve's ass and back.

He pressed his cheek to Steve's neck, breathing heavily. He didn't want to move. He didn't want it to be over. But it was, too quickly, it was. Steve was as still as anything, though he couldn't have been comfortable. Bucky's come had gone right up the inside of his pajama shirt.

Slowly, Bucky got out of bed and put on some clean pajamas. Then he handed a spare pair to Steve. “Here, put these on. We'll wash the other ones when Ma visits Mrs. Steinberg later in the morning. I’m on the late shift at the factory, so we’ll have time.”

Steve unbuttoned his pajama top and peeled it off. He bunched it up and tried to wipe the mess off his back.

“Here,” Bucky snatched the fabric and wiped off Steve’s back as best he could. He looked away as Steve got into the fresh pajamas. It was still very early in the morning. Instead of getting back into his bed, he slipped into Steve’s makeshift bed on the floor. 

“What’re you doing?” Steve asked.

“It’s fine, Steve, go back to sleep.”

“You regret what we just did, don’t you?”

Bucky clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Steve demanded. “Why are you _always_ sorry?”

Bucky didn’t say anything. Suddenly, he felt Steve’s foot nudging him in the back. “What—?”

“Get up,” Steve hissed. “You’re in _my_ bed.”

“It’s too cold for you down here.”

“No, it isn’t, I just said that.” Steve knelt down and pushed Bucky hard so that he rolled off the cushions. Then he snatched the blankets up and lay down, pulling them over his head.

Bucky would normally laugh at Steve doing something like that. But it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t funny at all. 

Bucky stared at the grey lump for a moment before getting back into his own bed. It smelled like sex. Steve probably wanted him to sleep there to remind him of that. 

He felt sick to his stomach at what he’d done. He was such a fucking failure. He’d promised Steve’s ma they would stop. She’d only been dead two weeks and he’d broken that promise. He was disgusted with himself. 

He never should have given in to Steve. After all that work he'd done to keep their friendship intact, he'd given in way too easily. It couldn't happen again.

He wished Steve could just understand. He couldn’t risk them ever getting caught again. He couldn’t risk anything bad happening to Steve. Prison, or worse — being beaten to death. He shuddered at the thought. Steve already attracted too many fights. He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost Steve. He _couldn’t_ lose him. 

He wouldn’t let that happen. And that meant they couldn’t be together. It was just the way things had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious consent note: Bucky accidentally grinds against Steve in his sleep, therefore Steve does not give consent to this contact. Also, Steve is a bit pushy about wanting to be sexual with Bucky.


	5. 1935

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This part has explicit underage (they are 17 and 18 years old) sex in it.

**1935**

The meatloaf was dry in his mouth. He gulped down his glass of water and stared at the clock.

“Steve, you’ve barely touched your food. Is something wrong?”

“No ma’am. Just not hungry, I guess.”

His ma gave him an appraising look. “We don’t waste food in this household.”

“I know, Ma. I’ll eat it later. I promise.”

The summer day had finally begun to cool, though it was still uncomfortably warm. Steve had had to have a bath earlier to cool himself down. But it did have the added benefit of making him smell good for Bucky. 

He pushed the damp hair from his forehead and looked at the clock again. One hour. One hour until his ma was due to leave for her night shift. One hour and fifteen minutes until Bucky would be there. 

They had been planning this. Bucky had a full time job so they hadn’t been able to get any time alone together in weeks. The last time they got each other off was a quick fumble in the men’s room at the cinema. It had been pretty risky and not all that satisfying. 

His dick stirred in anticipation. 

“Steve, your face has gone all red. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” She placed her palm to his forehead.

He jerked his head away. “I’m fine!”

She rolled her eyes and raised her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay.” She picked up her plate and walked towards the kitchen sink. “I want that plate to be empty when I get back from work.”

Steve thought that even if he didn’t eat it he could probably feed it to Bucky. After. 

Steve washed the dishes as his ma got ready for work. Then he sat down on the couch with his sketchbook. He found it too difficult to concentrate on anything, so he turned to an unfinished portrait of Bucky and distractedly worked on the shading. 

“Right! I’m going now,” she said, exiting her bedroom.

Steve slammed the sketchbook shut and jumped up from the couch. He went to meet her at the door. “Bye.”

“Be good,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek. Steve felt a twinge of guilt at that. He nodded but didn’t look her in the eye.

When she was gone, Steve checked his reflection in the mirror beside the door. He looked exactly as he looked the last time he saw himself in the mirror. Scrawny. He tried flattening his hair down again.

But it didn’t matter. Bucky liked him the way he was. After so many years, he knew that much. He looked at the clock again. Five more minutes. 

He remembered to brush his teeth just in time. Then he was hovering by the door, waiting. As soon as he heard the first knock, he swung the door wide open. 

Bucky was holding his fist up, mid-knock. He dropped it and grinned at Steve. 

Steve grinned back, stepping aside to let Bucky in. 

“Are we alone?” Bucky whispered.

Steve nodded as he shut the door. He stood and stared at Bucky, suddenly at a loss for words. “Um, are you hungry?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Yeah,” he said, as his eyes gazed pointedly at Steve’s crotch. He moved forward and placed one hand on Steve’s shoulder as he leaned in to kiss him. Steve eagerly reciprocated, pressing his lips into Bucky’s. But then Bucky pulled away. He moved his mouth towards Steve’s ear. “I’m starving,” he whispered and then giggled with a hint of nervousness. He snaked his hand down to Steve’s crotch and squeezed. 

Steve’s breath hitched. Reluctantly he peeled himself away from Bucky and grabbed his hand. “Come on then.”

They practically ran to Steve’s bedroom. Steve fell onto the bed, pulling Bucky down with him. They laughed at their clumsy landing. But then they were kissing again. Bucky was on top of him, and even though Steve had only been drunk once before, thanks to stolen whiskey from Bucky’s pa’s liquor cabinet, this kind of felt the same. 

He moaned as Bucky moved on top of him, pressing his hardness against Steve’s, moving his hips in small circles. But he wanted more. He pushed at Bucky’s chest, until Bucky was hovering over Steve, on his hands and knees, and Steve started working on the buttons of Bucky’s shirt. He loved seeing Bucky without a shirt. And boy, did Bucky know it. He teased Steve regularly by walking around without a shirt when Steve went over to his place. It was mortifying having to hide his erection with one of the couch cushions because Bucky’s ma was only one room away in the kitchen.

Now, he could take his time admiring Bucky. Unlike Steve, Bucky had a smattering of dark curls across his chest. Steve ran his fingers through them, simultaneously jealous and aroused. He grazed his thumb over Bucky’s left nipple, and Bucky gasped, grinding his hips down again. He leaned down for a kiss before sitting back to start work on Steve’s buttons. “Fair’s fair,” he said. But he didn’t stop with Steve’s shirt. He undid Steve’s trousers and underwear and swiftly pulled them down his legs, before he made quick work of his own pants.

He moved back between Steve’s legs, and Steve moaned. It felt so much better without anything between them. Bucky rutted against Steve as they kissed. Then he moved his lips to Steve’s neck. His chest. His belly. Steve knew what was coming and he shivered. 

“Please,” he stuttered, just as the wet heat of Bucky’s mouth enclosed around him. 

Steve loved it when Bucky sucked him off. Not that it happened very often. They usually gave each other quick, rough, handjobs, trying to make each other come as quickly as possible, with the little privacy could steal.

But Bucky was really taking his time with this. He alternated between bobbing his head up and down and swirling his tongue around the tip. Steve panted and tried to urge Bucky to swallow him deeper by hooking his foot over Bucky’s shoulder. He could feel the vibration in Bucky’s lips as he laughed.

Bucky let Steve’s dick fall from his mouth and placed kisses down the shaft until he was nuzzling his nose into Steve’s balls; then he gently started to kiss and suck on them too. It made Steve crazy. He tried pushing down onto Bucky’s face — not knowing what he wanted exactly, just more — but Bucky just chuckled and held Steve’s hip down to the mattress with his hand. 

Bucky pushed Steve’s balls up with his palm and placed light kisses to the skin beneath, on the base of Steve’s dick, moving further down as he did so. 

“Buck, what... what're you doing?” 

“You'll like it, Steve. I promise.”

Was Bucky really going to put his mouth there? Steve was glad he'd had a bath earlier in the evening. Then he felt Bucky start to suck the skin near his asshole and dart his tongue around, but still not reaching the place he was definitely headed. 

“Please,” Steve gasped.

And then Bucky’s mouth was there. His tongue was there. And it felt amazing. 

Steve whimpered. “Ah. Oh my god.” 

He bent his legs, hoping it would allow Bucky easier access. He just wanted more. It was so good. It was too much, but still not enough.

“Bucky, come on. Please… I can’t…”

“What?” Bucky asked, looking up, and Steve whined at the loss of his touch.

“My… I need you to…” He needed to come so badly.

“To what?”

“Please… suck my dick.”

Bucky smirked. “I haven’t finished here.”

He went back to massaging Steve’s entrance with his tongue, then he tentatively poked the tip of it inside, giving little thrusts in and out.

“Oh god!” Steve couldn't take it anymore, he reached down and started tugging on himself, desperately. He was coming all over his stomach in a matter of seconds. Bucky continued working his tongue in and out of Steve’s body until Steve finally relaxed, with a sated sigh. 

Bucky swiped his tongue over Steve’s hole one last time, before moving his head to the side to kiss Steve's thigh. He lifted his hand onto Steve's belly and began massaging his stomach, spreading the mess around.

“Bucky…” Steve reproached, though it was half-hearted. 

“I'll clean it up, don't worry.” He lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Then he pulled himself up so he was draped over Steve’s lower body, bent his head, and began licking the rest of Steve's orgasm from his stomach. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off him. 

“I told ya you'd like it,” he said between licks, and he had the nerve to look smug.

Steve let his head fall back, but his eyes stayed on Bucky. “I can't believe you sometimes.”

“You can't believe how handsome I am?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“No. I can't believe how filthy you are,” Steve said.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. Then he looked Steve right in the eye and said,“I love you.”

The smile he gave Steve — full of pure delight — it was enough to make Steve just about burst into flames. For some reason, hearing that embarrassed him more than what they had just done, even though he had heard Bucky say it too many times to count. “I love you too, Buck. Are you just gonna sit there like an idiot or do you want me to do something about that hard-on?”

Bucky crawled up Steve’s body on all fours. He pressed his erection into the damp patch of hair at Steve’s crotch and leaned in for a kiss. But before he could claim Steve’s mouth, Steve slipped away from him and wriggled down Bucky’s body. He swiftly took Bucky’s dick into his mouth, and Bucky let out a yelp of surprise. 

Steve grabbed onto Bucky’s ass with one hand, his other at the base of Bucky’s dick. He sucked and licked the head, eliciting low grunts from Bucky as he did. It wasn’t long before Bucky began twitching his hips forward. Steve could tell he was trying to hold back, and he didn’t want that, so he moved his hand away to grab Bucky’s ass with both hands, urging him deeper. 

“Uh, let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” Bucky said breathlessly.

Steve just grabbed Bucky’s ass harder, encouraging him forward. He focused on breathing through his nose — he hadn’t sucked Bucky off _like this_ before. It was different, but good. He rested his head back, and Bucky spread his knees wider. Soon enough, he was thrusting rapidly into Steve’s mouth. Steve thought he might not like it if it was anyone else, but he just wanted all of Bucky, and he loved that Bucky didn't treat him like he was fragile. 

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky crooned between incoherent mutters and grunts. “Real soon, Steve.”

Steve could feel it too, in the way Bucky’s muscles contracted under his fingertips. His breaths loud and ragged. He cried out and exploded into the back of Steve’s throat. Steve braced himself, thinking he might choke, but it was actually easier to swallow this way. Steve didn’t enjoy the taste as much as Bucky seemed to, but he always wanted to do it. He waited as Bucky slowly thrust into his mouth several more times, though he had spent all he had. He slipped out and flopped down on the bed beside him, panting. 

“Wow. That was good.” He leaned on his elbow and looked down at Steve. “Thank you,” he said, as he leaned in for a kiss, a dopey grin on his face. 

When their lips parted, Steve yawned.

Bucky laughed. “Hey, don't fall asleep on me yet, pal.”

Steve closed his eyes. “Hmm, why not?”

Bucky placed his hand over Steve’s chest, his fingers dancing over the skin. It tickled in a pleasant, dreamy sort of way. “Don't you want to make the most out of this time? I plan on going again.”

Steve smiled. That _did_ sound better than sleeping.

*

Steve awoke to yelling but didn’t register where it was coming from or why it was happening. He felt Bucky moving beside him, disentangling himself from Steve's arms.

“Get away from my son!”

He was confused. He rolled onto his back and pushed the heel of his hand into his eye. “Ma, it's just Bucky,” he said. He rubbed at his eyes in an effort to rouse himself. 

But as he looked over to see Bucky hastily pull his pants over his naked backside, he remembered. Bucky was supposed to sneak out before his ma got home, but they hadn’t woken up in time. 

He pulled the sheet up to his chest. “Ma, we were just—” 

“Steven Grant Rogers. I know what you were doing. You were _sinning_.”

Steve was shocked. She had never used that word with him before, despite how much the priest ranted about it every Sunday. 

“Ma…”

“Get dressed! You have two minutes!”

Steve scrambled out of bed and accepted the clothes Bucky passed to him. But Bucky wouldn't look him in the eye. And he didn’t say anything. 

“It’ll be okay,” Steve said, probably more to reassure himself. 

Bucky just shook his head. “Come on,” he said, when Steve was dressed. He walked out of the room without waiting for Steve.

Steve’s ma was sitting at the kitchen table. She motioned for them to sit down as well. Bucky took the seat furthest away from her. Steve sat down beside him. He was hurt that Bucky shuffled his chair away when Steve sat down. Bucky wiped his hand over his mouth several times. Was he trying to wipe away what they did?

His ma had calmed down considerably. In fact, she seemed too calm. It scared Steve even more than the yelling.

“Ma—” Steve started. Just as Bucky said, “I’m sorry,” in a quiet voice. Steve looked at him in surprise, but he had his head hanging so low Steve couldn’t see his face.

He looked back at his ma, she was watching him, she looked like she expected him to apologise too. Well, he wouldn’t. 

She put her head into her hands. “What were you thinking? How long has this been going on?”

Steve’s face burned. He glanced at Bucky again, but he hadn’t moved. “Um, a while,” he mumbled. 

“Steve, how could you do such a thing? You know it’s wrong. You go to church.”

“But Ma, we love each other.” He wanted to reach out and grab Bucky’s hand, but he knew Bucky would snatch it away, and he couldn’t stand that. 

She inhaled a sharp breath. “You… Steve, you’re seventeen years old. You don’t understand what love is. Love is between a man and wife. This isn’t love. It’s a sin, and it’s illegal.”

Bucky jerked his head up then. He looked just as alarmed as Steve felt. Steve had always known they couldn’t tell anyone about what they meant to each other, he knew what they were wasn’t accepted by everyone else, but he hadn’t known it was illegal. 

She started to look panicked. “You don’t want to end up in prison do you? Or – or dead! People get themselves killed for... acting on their perverse desires. This is not the life you boys should be leading. You’re good boys. I know you are. This can’t go on.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. The thought of going to prison scared him. But he couldn’t understand why what he felt for Bucky was so terrible. It didn’t feel terrible. 

“Please,” Bucky finally spoke up. “Don’t tell my parents about this. Please.”

She sighed. “I won’t tell them. But you have to promise me you’ll stop.”

Bucky nodded vigorously. “I promise. I’m sorry.”

Steve pressed his lips together and crossed his arms. 

“Steve, I have to know that you’ll stop. I already worry about you too much.”

“Can Bucky and I still be friends?”

Her face softened. “Of course you can.”

“Then I promise,” he said. But he was lying. He could tell she knew it too. 

“Bucky, I think you should go home now,” she said. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He was out of his seat in an instant. He didn’t even look at Steve as he rushed to the door. Then he was gone.

Steve stood up and stormed to his bedroom. He slammed the door with as much force as he could muster. Then he kicked it for good measure.

*

Steve didn’t leave his bedroom all day, except to use the bathroom when he absolutely had to. He refused to eat the sandwich his ma left for him outside his door. By dinner time, though, he was starving and was forced to join his ma at the table. He wouldn’t look at her.

She smiled at him and reached out to comb back the hair from his face with her fingers. He jerked away from her and she sighed. 

“Steve,” she said. “Did Bucky ever make you do anything? He seems like such a normal boy, but maybe I was wrong about him. If he ever forced you—”

Steve’s nostrils flared in anger. “Ma! He _is_ normal. He didn’t force me to do anything. I _wanted_ to… I want to be with him.”

She flinched. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re confused.” 

He banged his fist on the table. “I’m not!”

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me!” she said, though she sounded just as angry as Steve did, which Steve thought was hypocritical. “You don’t want that life, Steve. Why do you want to make things even more difficult for us?”

Steve stood up, his chair scraping across the floorboards. He turned and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. 

He went straight to Bucky’s. 

Bucky’s ma opened the door. “Oh, Steve,” she said. “Did you and James have a fight? He’s upset, but won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Um, yeah. Sort of. Can I talk to him?”

“Of course. He’s in his room.”

Steve walked along the narrow hallway, to Bucky’s bedroom at the end. He knocked once before letting himself in, afraid Bucky wouldn’t let him in if given the choice. Bucky was lying on the bed, on his stomach, with one arm draped over the side. He was picking at a loose thread on the faded rug that had been there ever since Steve could remember. 

He sat up when he saw Steve. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why? We’re still allowed to be friends.” Steve sat down beside Bucky on the bed and leaned in to kiss him. 

Bucky pushed at his chest. “Steve!”

“What?” Steve said, anger boiling up inside him. “You suddenly don’t want to kiss me any more?”

He leaned in again but Bucky stood up. “Quit it. C’mon Steve. We can’t.”

“We _can_. We just have to be more careful.”

Bucky sighed. He sat back down and turned to Steve. “You're my best pal,” he said. “I can't lose you. But I promised your ma. You did too.” As if he knew Steve was still going to argue, he added, “It ain't right what we're doing.”

That stung, he never thought he would hear Bucky say something like that. “I know you don't really believe that Bucky. I... I know you love me.”

Bucky looked away. “Doesn't matter.”

Steve felt tears start to well up in his eyes. “It does matter. It’s all that matters.”

“Please don’t cry, Stevie,” he took Steve’s hand and squeezed it tight. “We’ll still be best friends. Always.”

“I don’t want to be just best friends,” Steve said as the tears spilled over. “I want…”

“Shh.” He pulled Steve close. “I know.”

Steve rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder, and let himself be held while he cried.

*

When he came home, his ma was waiting for him. “Steve, sweetheart. I’m sorry. You don’t make things difficult. You’re my angel. You know that. I just want what’s best for you.”

“No, you don’t.” He couldn’t look at her. “You just want what’s best for you. What’s easiest for _you_. You don’t care how I feel.”

“That’s not true.”

But Steve didn’t stay to listen. He closed his bedroom door and climbed into bed, fully clothed. He lay down on his stomach, with his face to the pillow. He tried to conjure up any trace of Bucky’s scent that remained. But it was gone.


	6. 1932

**1932**

“So, you’re sleeping over tonight, right?”

Bucky and Steve were hanging out by the elm tree during lunch period. They weren’t in the same class at school anymore, so they always met up at this spot during recesses. Luckily, the worst of the winter was over and Bucky wasn’t too worried about Steve being out in the cold. 

“Of course. Don’t I sleep over every Friday?” Steve asked, a teasing grin on his face.

“I’m just making sure. I want to show you my new Dick Tracy comic. I didn’t want to bring it to school, you know how stuff is always goin’ missing around here.” Bucky did his fair share of nicking too, but Steve didn't need to know that. “Ma’s making apple pie,” he added.

“I’ll be there,” Steve said. “I’ve just gotta go home and get my pajamas first.” Steve used to bring his pajamas to school with him so that he could go straight home with Bucky, but one day Russell Pollard had grabbed his bag and pulled them out to show everyone. Steve was mortified, and he refused to bring his pajamas to school ever again. 

After school, they walked together to the corner where Minnie’s Diner was, then went their separate ways. Bucky’s ma had a snack waiting for him when he got home. “Steve’s not with you?” she asked.

“He’ll be over soon,” he said, as he shoved the cookie into his mouth. He took the apple slices with him to his room. He shut the door, walked over to his bed and reached underneath the mattress. 

What he really wanted to show Steve was a picture his cousin Reggie had given him. It was a picture of a naked dame. She had bare breasts but her leg was strategically covering her crotch. You could tell she didn’t have any clothes on, though. 

To be perfectly honest, she didn’t do much for Bucky. But he wanted to see if Steve would like it.

He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, when Steve appeared at his bedroom door, opening it without knocking. “Hi,” Steve said, cookie in hand, and threw himself down on the bed by Bucky’s legs. “Shove over.”

Bucky sat up and grinned. “Finally. Ready for Dick Tracy?”

“Yup.” He stuffed the last of his cookie into his mouth.

“Don’t get greasy fingers all over it,” Bucky said.

Steve licked his fingers. “All clean.”

Bucky made a face, but he handed Steve the comic anyway. He studied Steve’s face as he read. Sometimes, he wished he could draw as good as Steve.

After a while, he finally worked up the nerve to mention the picture. “I have something else I want to show you.”

Steve looked up curiously. “What is it?”

“Go shut the door,” Bucky said.

“You shut it.”

“Do you want to see or not?”

“Fine.” Steve stomped over to the door. As soon as it was closed, Bucky stuck his hand under his pillow and pulled out the picture. When Steve sat back down, he handed it to him, and watched Steve take it with wide eyes. 

Reggie had said he used pictures like that to jerk off, but when Bucky looked at it, he didn’t get hard at all. He glanced at Steve’s crotch but didn’t see any movement.

Over the last year or so, Bucky had come to realise he noticed boys more than girls, and when he jerked off, he tended to think about them. More than anything, he thought about Steve. He knew that was something he could never tell Reggie. Or anyone. 

“Do you like her?” he asked. He watched Steve’s face intently.

Steve handed the picture back to Bucky. “She’s okay, I guess.”

“Does she make you, you know, want to jerk off?”

“Bucky!” Steve looked scandalised. 

But he wouldn’t let it go. It was vital that he knew. It was like he wanted Steve to admit he liked the girl, so that Bucky could just get jealous and mad at him, but waiting to know was worse than the inevitable disappointment.

“Come on, tell me.”

Steve screwed up his nose. “I'm _not_ answering that.”

Bucky knew Steve did it. He'd even heard him one time, when he was staying over at Steve's and woke up in the middle of the night. He'd pretended to sleep while Steve cleaned himself up, then waited for what felt like forever before sneaking to the communal John to get himself off too.

“You must’ve jerked off,” he said. “I’ve done it loads of times.” He rearranged the crotch of his shorts, shifting uncomfortably.

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Boys! Time for dinner,” Bucky’s ma yelled.

They both jumped from the bed in surprise. Steve’s face was bright red.

Bucky shoved the picture back under the mattress. When he turned back around, Steve had already left the room.

*

That night, they took the cushions from the couch and put them down on the floor beside Bucky’s bed, like they did every time Steve stayed over.

When they were in bed, his ma said goodnight to them from the doorway, turning off the light and closing the door with a click. As soon as she was gone, Bucky started up again. “You know that picture?”

Steve sighed heavily. “What about it.”

“You can have it if you want.”

“I don’t _want_ it, Bucky. Can we please stop talking about that dumb picture?”

Bucky didn’t know what to say for a moment, something that didn’t happen to him very often. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He wished he could see Steve’s face but the room was pitch black. 

“It’s fine. Just… I don’t care about it. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“Oh. Okay. Goodnight.” Usually, they talked for hours after the lights went out. Steve must’ve really been upset. Bucky didn’t get to sleep for a long time after that. But he knew Steve didn’t either. He could always tell the difference in his breathing.

*

Steve was grumpy the next day. A sure sign that he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Sometimes, if Steve was in one of those moods he would just go home in the morning, but he hung around that day.

They didn’t have any plans, and it was still pretty cold outside, so they laid around on Bucky’s bed and read comic books. They were in their usual spot — Steve sitting at the foot of the bed, with his back against the wall by the window, and Bucky sprawled back on his pillow. After a while, Bucky sighed and rested the open comic book on his chest. He looked over at Steve, but Steve didn’t move. In fact, after watching him for a few minutes, he realised Steve had yet to turn a page.

He sighed again. “I’m bored.”

Steve didn’t say anything, but Bucky saw his jaw move as he pressed his lips together, in an effort to not respond. 

Bucky lifted his foot and poked his big toe into Steve’s knee. Steve moved over, but Bucky had long legs. And really, that was just an invitation for him to do it again.

“Quit it,” Steve said.

“I’m _bored_ , Stevie.” 

“You have comics.”

“I don’t feel like reading.”

Steve sighed and finally put his book down. He turned his head towards Bucky. “What do you want to do then?”

Bucky shrugged, awkwardly, from his position slumped on the pillow. “Dunno.” He poked Steve with his toe again.

Steve smacked his leg away. “Would you stop?”

“Okay.” He waited a moment before reaching behind him. He pulled the pillow around and threw it at Steve, hitting him square in the face. He laughed at the indignant look Steve gave him. Then the pillow was soaring back at him and he got a mouthful. “Hey!”

Steve lunged at him, and then they were wrestling, and laughing uproariously. Steve had somehow managed to almost get Bucky off of the bed, but he rolled on top off Steve, leaning heavily.

“Geddoff!” Steve’s muffled voice said from beneath him.

“Not a chance!” 

Steve pushed, and Bucky went tumbling to the side. Then Steve was on top of him, straddling him, his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. 

Bucky went silent. Suddenly, it wasn’t so funny anymore. Their faces were only inches apart. Steve’s laboured breathing ghosted across Bucky’s face. They both stared at each other, and Bucky thought maybe they were both waiting for the other to make a move. 

So he lifted his head and kissed Steve.

A surprised noise escaped Steve’s throat, but he didn’t move away. His lips pressed back. Bucky reached up and grabbed Steve’s arms, holding on tight. Their lips moved clumsily together, but to Bucky it was the best thing he had ever felt. 

He couldn’t believe he was kissing Steve. He didn’t ever want to stop. But all too soon, Steve pulled away, breathing heavily. He stared down at Bucky, his face uncertain. 

“I like you, Steve,” Bucky said. He wasn’t sure what he should have said, but he felt like he needed to say something.

“I like you too, Bucky. You know I do,” Steve said.

“But I mean, I don’t like any of the girls in school, you know? I like you instead.”

Steve let out a relieved laugh. “Yeah, me too.”

“Really? You’re not… you’re not just saying that, are you?” Steve was too nice sometimes. He might tell Bucky he liked this, even if he didn’t, just to spare Bucky’s feelings. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Bucky.”

“I know. I’m just… I didn’t expect you to say that.”

“I didn’t expect you to kiss me,” Steve said, leaning close, “but I think about kissing you all the time.”

Bucky didn’t usually blush easily, but he felt his face grow warm. He pulled Steve close, and kissed him again. It felt so good. Not just the kissing, but just knowing he could be close to Steve. Not just their bodies, but their hearts. 

Steve was his best friend, and he would do anything for him. But he didn’t think Steve realised how much Bucky needed him. Sometimes, when Bucky was joking around with other kids at school, he would catch Steve watching him, and he looked jealous. But the truth of it was, Bucky didn’t care about any of the other kids. If he had to choose to only have one friend for the rest of his life, he would choose Steve in a heartbeat. There was no contest.

Now, all the worry he had about his growing feelings for Steve, feelings he didn’t quite understand — it was all gone. He just felt happy. And it didn’t really matter that what was happening between them was kind of scary. It didn’t matter that he knew it would have to be a secret. As long as he had Steve, everything would be okay.


	7. 1927

**1927**

Bucky had been the new kid in the neighbourhood, and _everyone_ had wanted to play with him, but for some reason Steve couldn’t quite figure out, he’d chosen Steve to be his best friend. Steve thought for sure Bucky would get sick of him after a day or two, but here they were a whole month later and still best friends. 

And that day was special. They were having their first sleepover. Steve had never had a sleepover before. He'd never been invited to one. And he didn't really have anyone he could have invited himself. Until Bucky.

He’d wanted to go and stay at Bucky’s apartment, but his ma worried he could have an asthma attack. He was still getting over a cold. Only Steve got colds in the middle of summer. But instead of saying no, his ma said Bucky could sleep over at their place instead. As long as they promised to be good, and Steve didn’t get too worked up. 

That was hard for Steve. He was bouncing with excitement just waiting for Bucky to get there. When he finally heard the knock on the door, he ran to it and flung it open.

“Steve! You’re supposed to ask who’s there first,” his ma scolded. But she was smiling.

There was Bucky, standing beside his mother, who was holding a knapsack. Steve grabbed his hand and started dragging him to his room.

“Steven Rogers, where are your manners?”

But Bucky just gave his ma a quick kiss on the cheek, and then he was following Steve, shouting “Bye!” over his shoulder.

Steve yelled “Pleased to meet you” towards the door, and then it was just the two of them.

Steve wanted to show Bucky his new coloured pencils. He’d got them for his birthday. He’d never had anything so nice before. 

“Oooh,” Bucky said when he saw them, and Steve beamed with pride. 

He showed Bucky some of the drawings he’d done with them. “I love to draw,” he said.

“You’re really good at it.”

Steve turned bashful at the praise, but he liked it. The only people who’d told him he was good at drawing before were his ma and his teachers. And they had to say that, didn’t they? But maybe, if Bucky said it too, it was really true. He’d seen Bucky tell whoppers to adults before, but he believed Bucky was telling the truth about this. Steve trusted him. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Steve’s toy soldiers, until his ma called them to supper. 

When Steve saw what there was to eat, he was embarrassed. He wasn’t a dumb kid. He knew he was poor. All the other kids told him as much. But he hadn’t thought about the fact they wouldn’t have anything nice to feed Bucky. When Steve had stayed for dinner at Bucky’s house they’d had roast chicken. And Bucky’s ma always seemed to be pulling out a fresh batch of cookies from the oven. 

They each had a plate with a thin slice of beef, and the rest of the meal was bulked up with cabbage and boiled potatoes. But Bucky didn’t complain, he ate it all.

Afterwards, to Steve’s surprise, has ma pulled out a candy bar. “A treat for you,” she said with a smile. She opened the packet and cut the bar evenly down the middle with a knife. 

She handed them each half and Bucky asked, “Don’t you want some?”

She laughed. “No, no. This is your treat for being such good boys.”

“Thank you, Ma,” Steve said, as he shoved the chocolate in his mouth.

“Thank you, Mrs. Rogers.”

“Steve, slow down!” She shook her head and laughed again. “You’re welcome.”

*

Before bedtime, they were lying on Steve’s bed in their pajamas, drawing with Steve’s new pencils. Steve had to admit, Bucky wasn’t very good at it, though he didn’t tell him so. He was just happy Bucky had said he wanted to draw, even though it was probably only because Steve wanted to.

They had fallen into a comfortable silence when, suddenly, Bucky farted.

Steve squealed. “Eww!”

“Sorry!” Bucky’s face went red. “Sorry about that.”

Then Steve farted too.

They both looked at each other and burst out laughing. It got so hysterical that Steve’s ma appeared at the door. “Boys! Enough of that. It's time to go to sleep.”

Bucky quieted down, but Steve couldn’t stop laughing. 

“Do I have to separate you?” she asked. 

He stopped, the possibility terrified him. “No! No, we'll be good.” 

It was summer, so it was still light outside when they climbed under the sheets, Steve lying with his head at one end of the bed, and Bucky at the other. Even with the curtains drawn and Steve's bad eyesight he could still see Bucky’s face when he looked down. It was comforting. 

His ma kissed them both on the forehead. “Good night,” she whispered, before she closed the door. 

“Your feet smell,” Bucky said, as soon as she was gone.

“They do not!” Steve replied, but he was giggling again. They both were.

“Shhh. Your ma will come back!” 

They whispered silly secrets to each other for a little while longer, but Steve felt his eyes start to droop. Bucky asked him something, but he didn’t hear what is was. “Hmm?”

“Nevermind. Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, Bucky.” He smiled to himself. Bucky, his best friend. 

He felt sudden movement in the bed and his eyes snapped open. Bucky had crawled up the bed and was hovering beside Steve. He leaned down and smacked his lips against Steve's cheek.

Steve balked. “Why did you do that?”

“That’s what you're supposed to do when you say goodnight. My ma always does.”

“So does mine, but it's different.”

Bucky crawled back to his end of the bed. “I kiss my sisters, too.”

“But I'm not your sister!” Steve said, a little offended.

“I know. But you're my best friend.” He said it as if it made all the sense in the world that he should kiss Steve goodnight. Steve had never had a best friend before, so he didn't know.

He eyed Bucky suspiciously. “Well. All right.” His head hit the pillow again and he yawned. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“We'll be friends for forever, right?”

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky said, with a yawn of his own. “Forever.”

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the links to the artwork! [x](http://natterbugg.tumblr.com/post/147929030374/art-2-for-the-fantastic-fic-im-doing-art-for-in) [x](http://natterbugg.tumblr.com/post/147813401119/one-piece-of-artwork-i-did-for-the-incredible-fic). Thank you again Natterbugg!
> 
> I'm [@lovesdresses](http://lovesdresses.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


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